"It is not too late."
"Only too late for him to know and seek forgiveness."
"You mean your father?"
The girl bowed her head. Then she burst out vehemently: "It must not be softened down. I know, I feel, the horror, the wickedness of what was done. I must accept the shame, the punishment. The sins of the fathers must be visited on the children. It is the law of nature and the law of God! I want to make atonement; yet nothing can undo the past, the cruelty and wickedness of all those years of suffering and imprisonment."
"Renshaw will not harbour revengeful or vindictive feelings, I am sure of that," Linton answered soothingly. "He is a man of noble character, and a Christian gentleman."
"And it was he, a man like that, whom my father...." she paused, biting her trembling lips. "Oh it is horrible, horrible!"
"But he repented, he was sorry—the will proves it," said Linton.
"Yes, it is written there, a public confession, the dying declaration of his sorrow and his shame. There shall be no concealment. He did not wish it at the last. The truth must be made known to all the world."
"If Renshaw wishes it. But I do not think he will."